Cuchillo de palo

»Rodolfo was the only one of my many uncles who wasn’t a blacksmith like my grandfather. Rodolfo wanted to be a dancer.« This film takes up the hunt for clues about the life of Rodolfo, the Paraguayandirector’s uncle. Along the way, she finds out that Rodolfo’s name is on a list of 108 homosexuals that were imprisoned and tortured by General Stroessner’s dictatorial government in the 1980’s. »Rodolfo’s story unveils a piece of the deathly silent history of my country.« During the dictatorship and in the 15 year transitional period, 336 people disappeared, 20.000 were arbitrarily arrested, 18.000 tortured and at least 59 executed. Rodolfos dead body was found when the director was a child. When she asked her parents why he died they said, »From Sadness.«
It was winter. My father called us urgently. My uncle’s naked body had been found on the floor. There was a crowd of people standing about. The police dispersed the curious onlookers. My relatives were there. They asked me to go inside and choose the clothes in which he would be buried. I opened his wardrobe: it was empty. When I asked them what he died of they told me: of sadness. That answer contradicted all my memories of his life. I think my parents made a mistake when they told me as a child: “You must not enter your uncle’s house.” From that moment on, everything he did attracted my attention. Rodolfo was different. He wore flashy clothes, listened to Elvis and danced at every birthday party. The strange thing was that the chair by his side was always empty. He was the only one of my father’s brothers who didn’t want to be a blacksmith like my grandfather. In Paraguay in the eighties, under Stroessner’s dictatorship, he wanted to be a dancer. In my film I search for traces of his life, and discover that he was included in one of the ‘108 lists’, and was arrested and tortured. Even today in Paraguay when someone calls you ‘108’ they mean ‘hooker, faggot.’ For more than one generation, the time the dictatorship lasted, men who came under suspicion of being homosexual or against the regime were the favourite target of collaborators. When he was released, my uncle hid in his corner until his wounds healed. Rodolfo's story reveals a part of the hidden and silenced history of my country.
Renate Costa